Put Your Lips Together

Take a deep breath. Some thoughts following not yet fully formed...

Looking into the concept of breathing, I found a link to meanings of the word psyche.

psyche

1. Breath, to breathe, to blow, (later) to cool; hence, life (identified with or indicated by the breath); the animating principle in man and other living beings, the source of all vital activities, rational or irrational, the soul or spirit, in distinction from its material vehicle, the body; sometimes considered as capable of persisting in a disembodied state after separation from the body at death.

2. In Mythology, personified by Plato and other philosophers, it was extended to the anima mundi, conceived to animate the general system of the universe, as the soul animates the individual organism. St. Paul (developing a current Jewish distinction between spirit or breath, and nephesh, soul) used the lower or merely natural life of man, shared with other animals, in contrast with the spirit.

3. The soul, or spirit, as distinguished from the body; the mind.

4. The conscious and unconscious mind and emotions; especially, as influencing and affecting the whole person.

5. All that constitutes the mind and what it processes.

6. Term for the subjective aspects of the mind, self, soul; the psychological or spiritual as distinct from the bodily nature of humans.

This takes my thoughts to where they still too-often go these days, even after almost four months of not smoking. Apart from the occasional lava-lamp bubbling beneath my brain, without thought or warning will come a sudden in and out of a sharp breath from my mouth. Someone else noticed this, thinking I was practicing some kind of meditative zen technique. What actually went on: my body tries to smoke, even without a cigarette in hand. Breathe in and puff out. Therefore, by the definitions above, the mere act of breathing constitutes expelling our life force, our animating spirit.

When I get the chance, I put these exhalations to work as I finally found something, like smoking, involving breathing in and out and annoying people at the same time: playing the harmonica.

To play all the notes in the scale you alternate breathing in and out like in the image below.

And once again mixing some of the definitions above together the spirit, the unconscious mind get translated into the vibrations created by the ‘blows’ and ‘draws’ – in this act they become something else.

Meet the New Boss...

I love Metroid games -- more so for the puzzles than battling the bosses (bigger badder characters you need to beat if you plan moving further through a game) because I'm not much good at beating the boss creatures for some reason. I've tried Metroid Prime 2 on the Gamecube, and Metroid Hunters on the DS, but I just can't beat a boss. OK, I beat the first boss on the DS, but couldn't get past the second one. My hope for the Wii was that the controls would give me an easier time with these foes along the way. So far so good, as I finally survived my first Metroid boss battle, but I also survived long enough to succeed against Boss Rundas in Metroid Prime 3: Corruption!

Here's a Gamespot video of how I should have handled it. The video only lasts about 4 minutes -- it took me about 10 times that long to succeed. Oh well, success is success...

Inevitable Alterations

The mind searches furiously for a key to it all. What is it? What went wrong? Why? How? The body meanwhile does what it must to survive! Escape is not sought nor desired nor even possible. The alteration, subtle at first, then mounting in intensity, growing bolder, more visible, more disruptive as time went on -- the alteration was inevitable.

For the chaos, the tumult raging all about this last of his superior breed could only be the product of the pain and the passion and the fire to which he alone remains heir. The energy -- the creative force -- could be disciplined only so strictly, held seething in check only so long, before it burst forth ravaging, mindless uncontrollable. That's the answer! So obvious in retrospect! An organism ceases to live when it ceases to grow. The element of change, which loomed so terrifying -- was in fact the only hope of salvation.

To resist, to dam the flow, to go rigid...was to abandon all hope.

Steve Gerber wrote that (or at least co-wrote that) in the first issue of the comic book Omega the Unknown. Gerber and co-creator Mary Skrenes have always closely held the book and its mysteries to the vest, so we probably will never really know who did what. Just another mystery of life without an answer. What is it?

We feel most comforted by stories with answers, with endings, where there is a chance to frame everything into one picture. All the answers we need in a glance. Steve Gerber will not be ending any more stories. Dead at 60. Why? How?

It is common in the world of comic books for the artist to have a unique style. Uncommon is the comic book writer with an irreproducible personal voice and viewpoint in his work. Steve’s work is uncommon in this vein. …Could only be the product of the pain and the passion and the fire…

One of my favorite Gerber stories, the revival of the Metal Men. The overall theme of the story tells us of the sometimes-hard-to-find good in everyone, but now I am seeing something else in the background. Doc Magnus overcomes his madness in the story because of his work – not only in that he creates, but also that his Metal Men creations save his day by the end, by bringing him clarity and peace at last. I hope Steve too had peace at the end and that he recognized the outstanding quality of his work.

I hope other generations of writers and artists can continue to wrestle with the lessons of his works and their quality. For those of us who bought his stuff off the stands, his stories will continue in re-readings. The sadness, as always, is in the stories he never got the chance to tell us or to finish.

It is another element of change, and to do right by ourselves we must make the best of it we can. As we could often find something good in the baddest of Steve's villains, we could also heed the card left by his anti-hero, the Foolkiller, which said: Today is the last day of the rest of your life. Use it wisely, or die a fool.

Good night, Steve…we're a much wiser bunch because of you.

The basic nuts and bolts of Steve's life can be found here.

More information from a personal perspective may be found at the site of his friend Mark Evanier. Donations may be made in his name at Hero Initiative.

I've Still Got A Secret

More reasons to smile...

It’s pretty much still a secret, but the program “I’ve Got A Secret” – which ran on the CBS television network from 1952 to 1967 – began again in re-runs on Game Show Network (GSN) at the beginning of the year, at the primo time of 2:30 a.m. CST. If your Tivo is tired of the more modern re-runs and if you are looking for old-school entertainment packed with unexpected and occasionally poignant moments from history, you could do worse than getting some of these into your digital memory for future viewing.

No one thought of future viewers when these first aired. They probably did not think much beyond the show for the following week. “I’ve Got A Secret” after all, was not a game show in the standard sense. Generally played for laughs, the draw was more for those seeking a variety show. The contestants brought a unique secret for the panel to guess, and if the panel was unsuccessful, then the contestant won eighty dollars. In the first few years of the show, they also won a carton of Winston cigarettes courtesy of the program’s then-sponsor.

The variety of the show came from the different types of secrets and guest stars: on one night, a couple revealed they themselves had just found out NASA picked their son for the new astronaut program. An Indian in full authentic regalia, who, it turned out, was the man who posed for the so-called Indian head nickel followed them the same evening. On another night, a lady came from Michigan with the secret her house and all its furnishings were made entirely of paper. Or on another, a group of people in various forms of injury – one with a black eye, another with a cast on their leg, someone else with their fingers wrapped and another with a broken nose showed up with the secret that they had all injured themselves doing The Twist.

If you'd like to check them out before setting your Tivo timer, here's a You Tube clip of a typical 1962 episode (it's only Part One, but it should also offer you the chance at Part Two and Three at the end):

The panel here is my favorite of their various regular groupings: Bill Cullen, Betsy Palmer, Henry Morgan, and Bess Myerson...

Bill Cullen should be familiar to fans of game shows in general given his long-running hosting job for thirty-some years. He was the original host of the Price Is Right, back when it was successful enough to have not only a daytime, but also a regular nighttime version. Its popularity even gave it a spot as a plot on the Flintstones.

Betsy Palmer, delightfully daffy, an aspiring actress who got her best-remembered role years after IGAS was over -- as the mother of psycho serial slaughterer Jason, in the original Friday the 13th movie.

Henry Morgan was one of those wits you used to see a lot of, not really an author, a comedian, star, he just ... was. His curmudgeonly-wit did not endear him long with sponsors, so his solo-efforts on radio and television never lasted long.

Bess Myerson, the first Jewish Miss America, but she was also quite intelligent and stylish and later went on to the anti-war movement and regular work with various New York City government administrations.

Panel moderator Garry Moore, like Henry Morgan, is something you do not really see much of these days -- not really a star of any sort, but whose easygoing charm made him welcome in American homes via the airwaves for years. Moore is famous today for discovering and nurturing the talents of Carol Burnett, though to Bullwinkle fans his fame is for his having a partner/sidekick named Durwood Kirby.

I am not sure why, but until viewing these re-runs I had forgotten how much of a crush I must have had on Betsy Palmer. There is something about her still uniquely appealing to me. You can read more about her, and “I’ve Got A Secret” in this article from T.V. Guide, from 1962. (The picture up top was taken from this same article.) Look out there for the fellow with the carrots in his ears…

Of the couple mentioned above, whose son NASA chose for the astronaut program, they were Mr. and Mrs. Armstrong, and you can read about their experience on IGAS here in an excerpt from "First Man: The Life of Neil A. Armstrong."

Game Show Network will hopefully go back further to earlier re-runs than 1962 of the show, but at times they've been squeemish about playing episodes with such a prominent sponsor as Winston was in those days. Some time you may get to see David Niven (who's secret was that he was sitting on a block of ice while answering questions), the entire United States Air Force of the early 1900s (back when it was only one guy), and a man who witnessed Abraham Lincoln's assassination at Ford's Theatre.

Don't keep this a secret...

What can a Cat Man do?

“My name is Joe. I pick locks. I pick my nose.”

So goes the Cat Master, the leading character in King City, by Brandon Graham. Well-regarded on the Internet comics blog scene, Graham’s first volume is as entertaining, crazy and well drawn as advertised.

Joe’s lock picking practice makes for a natural beginning to the action but we follow this arc into spies, drugs and his bucket, with which he carts around his special cat.

The cat, when injected with cat juice, becomes anything. I mean, ANYthing, from a periscope to a key-copying machine to a parachute.

Though Graham’s end notes shows he thinks a bit too much about his work, the effortlessness of what he’s put down on the page here shows he’s able to use this thinking subconsciously and unobtrusively to the reader’s advantage. And not just with the personality-filled pretty pictures and ideas.

He does well with not only the dialogue between characters but also Joe’s frequent monologues. My favorite is when he considers his long-lost love, who Joe remembers while looking into the mirror:

“That girl used to put glue in her hair and jump on the bed and taste like grape candy. And how do you get over that?”

A gallery of Brandon’s work, including his depiction of Joe's cat seen above, is at http://royalboiler.deviantart.com/gallery/

King City is available at better comic books shops and bookstores carrying manga from Tokyopop. He’s also got another series, Multiple Warheads, coming soon from Oni Press.

When a Huddled Mass, no longer tired, nor poor, gets ugly, angry and possibly even

We never get a good long glimpse of the giant something tearing up New York City in Cloverfield but for most of the movie, we clearly feel the terror and madness such a visitation would invoke amongst those experiencing this kind of a first contact.

Producer J.J. Abrams (Lost, Alias) and director Matt Reeves appear to understand we do not need exploding eyeballs and full-frontal decapitations to feel fear. We can be afraid and go ‘ooh!’ in our theater seats, held rigid in suspense, through a movie that is only rated PG-13.

For those who do not know what the movie is about… A gigantic vaguely glimpsed monster tears up New York City. Several friends try to escape together and we experience their trek through the videotape they made on their journey.

Our only knowledge going into this is the beginning of the tape, which tells us someone discovered the videotape in what was “formerly known as Central Park.” We do not know who shot it, who survived, or who found it, or even how long ago the taped events took place. Some of our questions receive answers. I will have to see this again to find out if there were more answers than I originally gathered.

And that’s just one way to see the film… Abrams and company infected the Internets with various viral clues, like websites promoting products which may or may not have anything to do with the creature. Slusho.jp is worth visiting as is the manga prequel to the film. Or you could visit the Cloverfield Clues blog.

If this is correct, then while the United States was responsible in large part for the original appearance of Godzilla, Japan may have finally returned the favor.

What rushes through our veins

I read this a little too quickly last year, but some of its scenes keep cropping up in my head...

In Warren Ellis' Crooked Little Vein, the search is on for the Secret Constitution of the United States, dragging private detective Michael McGill through all the dark secret places crawling beneath America's red white and blue crust. But despite the prevalence of perversions and addictions there's a bump in the road that sticks with me in this election season:

McGill and his guide Trix travel through the sexual and pharmaceutical byways of the nation and eventually the clues take them to Las Vegas, to the newly-opened Freedom Hotel. The Freedom is shaped like Rio De Janeiro's giant Jesus, but in the Vegas version Jesus is dressed in an Uncle Sam suit. And all the flag-waving grows tackier from there. It's the kind of a place where they'd have red, white, and blue toilet paper.

Trix gets upset with the receptionist and McGill drags her to the elevator:

"These people just work here. They didn't build it." explains McGill... "you want to kill people for being dumb?"

Trix answers in the affirmative, so McGill continues:

"Look," I said. "You don't get to keep the parts of the country you like, ignore the rest, and call what you've got America. You didn't vote for the president, right?"

"Fuck no."

"No, I bet she did. Half the people in America did. More than half the people in America believe in God. You don't get to just ignore that. I know you like telling me about new stuff and showing me that there's a whole other society in America and all that shit. So now I'm showing you: this is what the rest of the people have, okay?"

And this is not the point of the book, it's just one of the points along the way. Read it for yourself.

We're one side of things from others, but if all we see is our own truth, then how are we better than those "narrow-minded idiots" we see skulking around on the "Other Side"?

Flipping through channels: Bill O'Reilly had on some woman who was a born-again Conservative of some kind, shaking her head that she found she was lying to herself all the time she was "Liberal" and she couldn't live with the lies anymore, so she became saved by Conservatism. I don't know who she was and I don't really care: she could have been someone interviewed by Keith Olbermann about how they couldn't live with the lies of being a Conservative. The sincerity was the same.

This isn't mathematics where only one answer is possible, this is people-stuff where answers are neither neat nor permanent.

Advance the Mask, Again

NPR's All Things Considered broadcast a nice piece this afternoon on the history of the Lone Ranger, and you can read about it, and listen to it, here...

This connects with my previous post that began playing with music and soon went down another trail to the Ranger and the goodness of doing good.

Because I still stand by that post, I'll disagree somewhat with the article's quote from Professor Gary Hoppenstander, who says "I think what (the mask) plays into is the audience's sense of escapist fantasy. The idea is that in their imagination, in their dreams, all they need to do is don their own mask, and they, too could have these grand and exciting adventures."

Yes, that's true, but there's probably a lot more going on. Michael Chabon notes some of it in the NPR article.

Regarding the mask again -- there's a lot of thought put into what the mask looks like to others: in the Ranger's case, for instance, he's seen as just another outlaw. In Batman's case he's seen as the nightmare of criminals. I'm wondering now, not what is seen on the outside, but how is the outside seen from the inside of a mask. Does the world look different when no one knows who you are...?

Give Him His Space

Before I forget...

Happy Birthday to Space Godzilla who was borne to American audiences in January, 1999. Perhaps we'll get a decent print of your movie here some time -this- year!

Concession Stands

"It is going to take a person who is himself an innovator like myself … to be able to go head to head with Barack Obama and win." said Mitt Romney before New Hampshire's primary.

He's made past comparisons of himself and his candidacy to Obama's, and his speech last night after his second-place finish shows he's been working on the style, but has not come close to the substance, of Obama. Romney said:

"They've heard Washington say that they're going to stop illegal immigration, but they haven't.

They've heard Washington say that they're going to get us off of our dependence on foreign oil, but they haven't.

They've heard Washington say they're going to get people insured that don't have health insurance, but they haven't. They've heard Washington say they're going to improve our schools and make them the best in the world, but they haven't.

They've heard Washington say that they're going to protect our jobs and make sure that the jobs that we have are the best in the world, but they haven't done that.

They've heard Washington say they're going to balance the budget, but they haven't done that.

They've heard Washington say that they're going to make life easier on the middle class and reduce the burdens on the middle class, but they haven't. "

Whereas Obama's New Hampshire concession speech went like this:

"But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope. For when we have faced down impossible odds; when we've been told that we're not ready, or that we shouldn't try, or that we can't, generations of Americans have responded with a simple creed that sums up the spirit of a people.

Yes we can.

It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land.

Yes we can to justice and equality. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can heal this nation. Yes we can repair this world. Yes we can.

And so tomorrow, as we take this campaign South and West; as we learn that the struggles of the textile worker in Spartanburg are not so different than the plight of the dishwasher in Las Vegas; that the hopes of the little girl who goes to a crumbling school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of LA; we will remember that there is something happening in America; that we are not as divided as our politics suggests; that we are one people; we are one nation; and together, we will begin the next great chapter in America's story with three words that will ring from coast to coast; from sea to shining sea -- Yes. We. Can."

Can we see the difference between the two?

Yes we can...

Following the Heard

My own end-of-the-year compilation of a mythical musical mix... cutting things down to fit on two CDs.

CD One:
1) Grip Like A Vice*Go! Team (from Proof of Youth)
2) Umbrella*Rihanna (from Good Girl Gone Bad)
3) Friday Night*Girl Talk (from Night Ripper)
4) Make A Plan To Love Me*Bright Eyes (from Cassadaga)
5) You Don’t Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You’re Told)* White Stripes(from Icky Thump)
6) To The East*Electrelane (from No Shouts No Calls)
7) Secrets*The Pierces (from Thirteen Tales of Love and Revenge)
8) Us vs. Them*LCD Soundsystem (from Sound of Silver)
9) The People*Common (from Finding Forever)
10) Dickie, Chalkie and Knobby*The Mekons (from Natural)
11) Cat Brain Land*Melt-Banana (from Bambi’s Dilemma)
12) D is for Dangerous*Arctic Monkeys (from Favourite Worst Nightmare)
13) 20 Dollar*MIA (from Kala)
14) Stay on the Ride*Patty Griffin (from Children Running Through)
15) Double-Up*Lifesavas (from Gutterfly)
16) One Minute to Midnight*Justice (from Justice)
17) Gotta Work*Amerie (from The Internet)
18) Rehab*Amy Winehouse (from Back to Black)
19) Go To Sleep*The Avett Brothers (from Emotionalism)


CD Two:
1) Radio Nowhere*Bruce Springsteen (from Magic)
2) The Mountain*PJ Harvey (from White Chalk)
3) The Real Thing*Jill Scott (from The Real Thing: Words and Sounds, Vol. 3)
4) (I Don't Need You To) Set Me Free*Grinderman (from Grinderman)
5) Japanese Slippers*Fiery Furnaces (from Widow City)
6) Three to Get Ready*Dave Brubeck Quartet (from the soundtrack to Inland Empire)
7) Can't Tell Me Nothing*Kanye West (from Graduation)
8) Way Back When*Buck 65 (from Situation)
9) Killing the Blues*Robert Plant & Alison Kraus (from Raising Sand)
10) Paper Planes*MIA (from Kala)
11) Turn Me Around*Mavis Staples (from We'll Never Turn Back)
12) Smoke Detector*Rilo Kiley (from Under the Blacklight)
13) Spider Pig*Hans Zimmer (from the soundtrack to The Simpsons Movie)
14) J Dillalude*Robert Glasper (from In My Element)
15) I'm Not There*Sonic Youth (from the soundtrack to I'm Not There)
16) Challengers*New Pornographers (from Challengers)
17) Jigsaw*Radiohead (from In Rainbows)
18) Flashlight Fight*Go! Team (from Proof of Youth)
19) D.A.N.C.E.*Justice (from Cross)
20) Hello/Goodbye (Uncool)*Lupe Fiasco (from The Cool)

Justification later...

Happy New Year...!

Looking Up

Things are beginning to look up...especially from the belly of the new "Enchanted Caves" at the City Museum.

Drawing Out the Pain

Posting continues its sporadic nature as nicotine withdrawals make focusing more difficult than usual.

In the meantime, two offerings of my own creation from:

stripgenerator.com

Click them to go to the strip-generator site, where you can click them again for a more-readable size...

Everyday You Meet Quite A Few...

Critic Wilfrid Sheed’s latest book, “The House That George Built,” carries us through the golden years of Tin Pan Alley, with each chapter concentrating (more or less) on an individual composer like Gershwin, Berlin, Carmichael and the best of the rest. In his better moments, the prose brings each mentioned song to mind and I kept stopping the read so I could give a listen to the tunes about which he was talking.

However, it’s not for the music that I put these words down. In his chapter “Jimmy Van Heusen: On the Radio with Bing and Frank” Sheed describes how tunesmith Van Heusen ("Swinging on a Star," "Moonlight Becomes You," "All the Way," "Call Me Irresponsible" to name a few) spent his war years:

"Four days in a row, up at four A.M. to test-fly new Lockheed warplanes until noon, under the name of Chester Babcock; then off to Paramount to write songs for the rest of the day as his other self, Jimmy Van Heusen; then a two-and-a-half-day break, during which he only had to get up whenever the studio did, to write songs all day this time. Then back to Go, and you can sleep as long as you like when the war is over, buddy."

"What twenty-first-century sensibilities might find harder to grasp is not the deed but the cover-up. Imagine the glory at the Lockheed base if he ever so much as let one colleague know that he had recently written that song they were all humming, "Sunday, Monday, or Always"; and imagine the megaglory of tipping off Louella Parsons, the gossip queen, that you were not just another Hollywood draft dodger, the kind people hooted and whistled at in the street, but a hero on two fronts, the entertainment one as well as the real one, in which he was entrusting his life again and again to the skills of Rosie the Riveter between songs. Ronald Reagan would have told Ms. Parsons even if he hadn't done it, as an inspirational story. But the hell with it. Jimmy was not the inspirational type, and besides, he was only a great songwriter, not a minor movie star, so he mightn't even have inspired anyone that much. And finally, of course, there was his job at Paramount to worry about. No doubt his bosses would have crooned his praises in public -- but who wants to make movies with a guy who might go down in flames any minute, and hold up your next picture? Who did this guy think he was anyway? Joan of Arc?"

"In retrospect, the myriad changes of sensibility that occur in this country seem like earthquakes that no one notices at the moment they occur. In the 1920s, a writer could genuinely think of himself, and be thought of, as a star. In the thirties and forties, he was just a working stiff to all concerned. From the 1990s until today, a guy with Van Heusen's war record would undoubtedly have sold the book and movie rights and established his own website as the Singing Test Pilot or the FlyingTroubador.com In the 1940s the worst thing that you could be was a hotshot or a big deal. "What are you?" as the kids used to say. "A wise guy or Boy Scout?" To this, there was no correct answer except to put up our dukes and pray."

Sheed occasionally falls prey to generalities and self-contradictions -- you can see a couple of them in the above-example. What all this brings up to my mind, to the background swing of Dean Martin leering "Ain't That A Kick In the Head" (another Van Heusen tune): Are there still those out there doing good because it is the right thing to do? Are there still those who do the right thing, not because the deed means some reward -- and by 'reward' I mean not just money, but also glory and an improved self-esteem -- for the do-gooder?

The Lone Ranger would ride off into the sunset without waiting for thanks; Superman would say no thanks were necessary because "it's what I'm here for." The more-common cliché for a mask these days, though is "if gangland crooks knew my real identity they would try for revenge against me through my friends and family." I like the more noble idea: if no one knows who you are when you do the good deed then it's a strictly-anonymous affair, without reward of any kind. Only good for goodness' sake.

"All the monkeys aren't at the zoo," goes Van Heusen's Swinging On A Star, "every day you meet quite a few..." Like the monkeys, perhaps there are heroes met every day as well -- subtly working their good through the world -- and we're just too slow or cynical to notice them until our thanks are too late to matter...

Put This In Your Pipe

From the diary of a nicotine fiend on the first day of his last attempt at quitting cigarettes, circa October 2007:

Whatever kind of cave dweller has the biggest brow, that is what I am convinced I look like today. Am I Neanderthal? Cro-Magnon? The feeling goes on right now and all through the day: eyes screwed back deep inside my head looking out from under the shadow of what feels like a big enormous sloping brow. All the weight on the top of my head has rolled itself up to the center of my frontal lobes. Every other part of my being is more a foggy memory; of something, I remember having once in what must have been good old days. Because of the disconnect from the rest of my self, typing this out feels like my fingers are being operated from a mechanical claw at the carnival, trying to pull free the really good prize at the bottom of the pile.

Sense of smell has improved remarkably, for such a short amount of time, a matter of hours -- though visiting the restroom across the hall has made me question how much I should relish this heightened awareness of the olfactory.

Gone to Shell

The awful awful diseases, killing me by degrees. Back out of my shell with posting again shortly -- by this weekend.

Steady Hands

With steady hands and balanced mind, you too can take pleasure in another Dr. Toy award winner, this one from the “10 Best Toys of 2006”: Kapla Blocks.

It is not possible to describe Kapla Blocks in any particularly exciting way: they are blocks. Wooden blocks. They do not light-up; they do not erupt with loud noises. They are just blocks. Wooden blocks... More precisely, they are wooden planks (made of “pine from renewable French forests”) measuring 1” by 4 ½” by ¼”. Each exactly alike, though you can choose from seven different colors.

They act as blocks because what you do with them is… stack them. It is how you stack them that counts, as you can use the plans included with the kit, or use your imagination to create countless oddities.

Think of them as a creative-form of Jenga.

At top is a picture of my first creation, made from the basic barrel-set of 200 planks. Though they did not have a systematic plan for it, there was a picture of a completed one, which I used as a guide. I am not sure how many I used for it, as there were quite a few left over. What I am sure about is that I need to get more of these things.

What Are You Looking At?

When you squeeze and squint your eyes to focus, is it something in your mind trying to make your eyes smaller? Is it because when you had tiny eyes, when you were a child, you could see much more?

Try to see again as a child, walking to work – all the details: grass, hedges, fences, but then try harder, forcing your sight into more of a focused lens closer to blades of grass, leaves and branches of hedges, painted wooden-pickets of fences.

Then tighten more your gaze that you might see:

Black busy bugs travel over, under, and around each towering green and brown-rusted blade bending beneath the weight of their eternal unknown mission. Twisted hedge trunks turn in synch with its community of leaves -- each uniquely shaped from the other but all working together to embrace the changing sunlight. Dimpled white daubed spackling of rough-cut wood smile back at you with what an untroubled mind now recognizes as a sea of happy faces.

Slow down and try to see the details again, become less goal oriented, and try to take in what wonders there may be before you. Do not cloud your mind with what you expect awaits at the end of the trail. Forget about the pending deadlines, the scheduled appointments, and what-might-go-wrong. Let yourself go to the unexpected pleasures of the moment.

Playing the Nintendo WII game “Marvel Ultimate Alliance” in co-op mode, with younger people:

The game allows you to play as a character from the Marvel Comics’ “universe” – you can be Spider-Man, Daredevil, Wolverine, or one of the Fantastic Four, and your mission is to battle an army of monsters and villains through the levels of cityscapes and underworlds and places-that-have-never-been.

Because it’s co-op mode, everyone must move together. If one person lingers on one side of the screen, the other players are unable to move further down whatever path lies ahead. This can be frustrating if you are the adult in the group. Your mind automatically steers toward the future, to the goal needed to continue the game.

Generally when playing with the younger set, however, you often find yourself stuck, unable to move on because one of the children remains on his side of the screen. “Could there be some secret treasure or insight I missed where he lags?” I wonder. Looking to where his character remains on the screen to discover what my group member has found, I see nothing but joy. “Look at me, I’m Spider-Man!” he shouts gleefully, pressing buttons and moving the controls – exhilarated by his ability to skillfully manipulate the hero into shooting webs and bouncing off walls.

He does not care where he's going -- what he's able to do now is what's most important.

Trying to see as a child can help you appreciate more the work of certain artists, as well. Look past the uncomfortable sights and sounds of David Lynch films, for example – forget about goals and fulfilling resolutions before “The End.”

Lynch’s eyes also see as a child. He marvels at not only what his story-telling technology can do with lights, movement, and sounds, but also how they can change the original meaning and mood into something even more marvelous.

His most recent work, “Inland Empire”, is now on DVD, and the extra features reveal no more of the film’s meaning than the film itself – their revelations instead light up the eyes of Lynch, telling us how we should view not only the movie, but perhaps the world itself.

In the extra feature, called “Quinoa” Lynch prepares one of his favorite meals for us: a grain and broccoli delight that cannot possibly taste as good as Lynch’s pleasure in preparing it. Every detail and step is slow and precise.

Patiently observe the director tapping out a small amount of vegetable bouillon cubes. “I’m gonna set this right here – prepare it for later. I’m going to open that drawer, right here, and get a little knife. Then I’m gonna just bust this up, like so, into little pieces. Then I’m gonna let it wait there. It’ll be happy waiting right here.”

He continues: “Then I’m going to go over here and get these paper towels. And I’m going to get a paper towel and fold it for later ‘cause that handle gets so hot you can’t believe it!”

Later as he waits for the dish to complete its cooking, he talks more about the making of the film:

“It was a phenomenal world that appeared in this regular warehouse that became a magical world. So many magical things came out of that, and it grew and grew and no one will ever know how it grew that way ‘cause nothing was planned. It was partly planned but the final thing, you couldn’t have planned it like that. No one could have ever planned that.

“When you do something you don’t know where it will end up and how it will marry to something -- how it could marry to something in the future. So no matter what you do – some things you do and maybe they don’t feel so correct -- when you do it feels finished or kind of finished. Or something’s not quite right, it isn’t finished – for whatever reason you sort of walk away from it and later unbelievable things can come out of that."

"It’s just like the perfect thing you’ve been looking for.”

Here Today in a Still Tomorrow

ALPHAVILLE (1965):
Starring Eddie Constantine, Anna Karina,
Akim Tamiroff and Howard Vernon
Directed by Jean-Luc Godard
(100 minutes) B&W
(French w/ subtitles)

The private detective comes to town, seeking some truth. As usual, he's the outsider, but in Alphaville no one appears to pay him much mind when he starts snooping around, making inquiries, taking pictures. In Alphaville no one questions anything.

Its motto -- "Science Logic Security Prudence" -- represents their way of non-life, monitored and controlled by a central computer. The scientist who created the computer reasoned that people have become slaves of probability, so he concluded: for perfection to exist you need to weed out the factors that could cause improbables.

Regularly scheduled executions handle the weeding. Capital crimes include not only reading poetry, but showing emotion -- like shedding tears over your wife's dead body. The dictionary (in Alphaville called "The Bible") arrives in new editions every morning without certain words that were there the day before. ("So no one knows the meaning of the word' conscience' any more. Too bad...") There is no "day before" or "day after." Only the present exists. The past is a memory that can only cause sorrow and pain, while thoughts of the future -- perhaps the most unwanted improbable of all here -- might create a hope for something better than today.

That the hope is always there is the truth they and their computers cannot compute and can never delete.

All Together Now

ALL ABOUT EVE (1950):
Starring Bette Davis, Anne Baxter and George Sanders
Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz
(138 minutes) B&W

An awards ceremony opens the film with the top prize about to be announced and we are told how important the proceedings, how famous the attendees. A cultured snide voice speaks almost-rudely over the presenter's dialogue, letting us know, "It is not important that you hear what he says." The characters in the story had better heed the wisdom in that, and so too should the audience.

For the characters, it is more important to see the actions, not hear the words. For the audience, "All About Eve" is all about words – deriving momentum only by its terrific ability to sustain witticisms in powerful steady streams of dialogue, in what is essentially a backstage drama about a conniving up-and-comer stealing the thunder from the old blood of the theater.

The cast is responsible for the words retaining their power after all these years -- especially George Sanders as the cultured snide critic, and most especially Bette Davis in one of the last great roles of her career.